


Keeping Up With The Desaulniers

by hells_orchestra



Category: IDENTITY V, 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game)
Genre: Absolute insanity for the funnies, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Andrew’s dreams are plot relevant shut up shut up shut UP, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, M/M, Non-Canonical, None of the authors are taking this seriously and neither should you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hells_orchestra/pseuds/hells_orchestra
Summary: The Desaulnier family’s highs, lows, and nightmarish chaos.Thanks to @cherrysealbomb on Instagram, I now have this nightmare of a fanfiction to write.
Relationships: Aesop Carl | Embalmer/Andrew Kreiss | Grave Keeper, Joseph Desaulnier | Photographer/Antonio | Violinist, Mary | Bloody Queen/Michiko | Geisha
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. Meet The Desaulniers (A)

**Author's Note:**

> An explanation of the family tree!
> 
> Joseph and Mary are siblings. Michiko and Mary are married, and Joseph and Antonio are also married. Victor and Andrew are siblings. (Joseph and Michiko have a... complicated past relationship... which is now the reason behind Victor’s existence.)
> 
> Also- the chapters alternate between Joseph, Antonio + Andrew (family A), and Michiko, Mary + Victor (family B). My lovely friend Callisto (the aforementioned @cherrysealbomb) shall be writing all of our lovely family B’s chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: THIS CHAPTER IS TERRIBLE! PLEASE. STRUGGLE THROUGH IT TO GET TO THE GOOD PART OF THE FIC. IM SORRY

** [Prologue, Joseph’s point of view. Takes place about 13 years before main events.] **

It was 1 am when I was rather cruelly woken up to the sound of very high-pitched screaming. Immediately, I sat up, both somewhat annoyed at the nuisance, and worried. I hesitantly glanced around the room, before looking down at the bed where my darling Antonio slept... except he was not there. “Oh.. Oh  no... ” 

Instead of panicking, I stood up, still half-asleep, and ran out of my room into the hallway. “Antonio? Mon cheri?” 

I tried to follow the sound of the screaming, which seemed to be a futile effort, until I realised the screams were coming from the most highly protected room in my home- the closet, obviously. It confused me as to how someone had got into there, since there are fingerprint locks on the door (I’m too rich to not protect my valuables, of course), but I paid it no thought. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I quickly scanned my fingerprint, and pulled the door handle. I was prepared to see something awful, and I could feel myself begin to sweat slightly. “ANTONIO?”

In the middle of the room lay.. a small, grubby-looking child with white, medium-length hair that covered one of his eyes from view, and pale skin like porcelain. He was screaming and wailing as a confused-looking Antonio hugged him tightly, trying to keep him calm. Both of them looked up at me, and the child stopped crying for a few seconds, probably out of confusion. “Oh, hello, Joseph.. I’m sorry for leaving you alone-“ 

“WHAT IS _THAT_?” 

The child seemed to realise something, and began to howl again, shoving his face into Antonio’s chest. I internally cringed at the thought of  _ anyone  _ dirtying my clothes with their tears, let alone a child. “Oh, I didn’t mention him to you... This is Andrew, love. I’ve been taking care of him because of his unfortunate circumstances.” 

Disgust began to grow inside of me. He knew I found children  revolting , so why did he even consider bringing one into our home? It almost made me feel dizzy. “I need.. to sit down.” 

I hesitantly sat down on the floor, not wanting to come near the thing sniffling in Antonio’s arms. “So, mon cheri.. what are these... _unfortunate_ circumstances that meant you had to bring a child into our home? And how long has be been here?” 

He sighed, and gently stroked Andrew’s hair. “His parents weren’t the best, until they died. I found him abandoned outside the cemetary. He’s been here for... 3 months?” 

I stared at him, about to start yelling, before I remembered the child. “... 3 _months_? You’ve kept him in here for 3 MONTHS? Did you tell Michiko and Mary? Why didn’t you tell  me? ” 

He seemed overwhelmed by all the questions, and for a second I thought I’d upset him. The child seemed half-asleep, and he stopped stroking his hair. “I.. didn’t tell Michiko and Mary. I didn’t tell you because I knew you hated children, but.. Please can we keep him?”

I felt conflicted. On one hand, I _despised_ children and wanted to throw that thing against the wall and stomp on it until it was a small brown stain on the marble floors of the elegant closet we were currently sitting in. Children made me want to vomit violently, and this one was no exception. On the other hand, Antonio seemed desperate to keep him around, and plus, the child seemed.. pitiful. I drummed my fingers against the floor, Antonio nervously staring at me. I made the decision to finally speak. “... How old is he?” 

“Seven.” 

I nodded, and said something I never thought I would ever say.

“We’ll keep him.”

** [Andrew’s point of view, in the present] **

_ I was walking along a dark corridor. I felt the instinctual urge to run, and so.. I did. I ran as fast as I could, stumbling a little in the darkness. The wooden floors creaked as I ran across them. I needed to get to the door.. All of a sudden, I heard a deafening ticking noise, and I fell to my knees. It grew louder and louder, until.. _

I woke up with a start, immediately jolting up and anxiously looking around my room. It was silent.  The same dream again..?  I thought to myself. Recently, I’d been having the same dream over and over... Trembling a little, I stood up, and picked up my phone from where it was charging on the bedside table. It was 10pm, surprisingly, which reminded me of something. “First night of my new job...” 

I groaned, and set my phone down. I had reluctantly accepted a job offer working in a cemetery as a grave digger. The people there were seemed odd, however there was a somewhat charming man... Aesop, I believe his name was? I shoved the distracting thoughts of beautiful yet odd men to the back of my mind, and headed to my closet. As I got dressed, I thought about how odd the offer was. The cemetery was advertised as using traditional methods, meaning digging by hand and trying to preserve “the good old days of funerals.” As odd as it seemed, the concept interested me. Plus, it paid a good wage, so.. how could I decline? However, it came at the price of selling my soul to night shifts.

I left my bedroom, and tiptoed across the corridor, nervously heading down the stairs. I knew Joseph slept much earlier than Antonio did, so I had to be careful as not to wake him. Our home- or rather, a mansion, was huge. My “father”, Joseph, and his older sister, Mary, had inherited it from his rich parents once they sadly passed away, along with a large amount of money, and it was large enough to house both our family and his sister’s family.Despite the riches he was in possession of, he still encouraged me to get my own job to “learn the meaning of hard work.” In a way, I suppose I did learn. I entered the kitchen, and was greeted by my other dear father. “Ah.. Andrew. It is your first day of work, isn’t it?” 

His soft, almost eerie voice echoed around the room as I grimly nodded and headed towards the coffee machine, before he stopped me. “No need to worry yourself with that. I have already prepared coffee and some food for you.” 

I smiled as he handed me a cup of coffee and my usual breakfast. “Thank you, Dad.” He softly chuckled as he watched me consume my rather late breakfast. “No problem... I hope you enjoy today. I shall not preach to you about it like Joseph does, however.. I will say that I hope you find something about it that calls to you and keeps you interested.”

I put down the now-empty coffee mug, and nodded. “I-I understand... I hope I do too.” He took the coffee mug, placing it next to the sink. “Are you ready to leave?” 

I nodded, heading towards the kitchen door. “Well, good luck to you. Be careful, and...” He seemed hesitant to speak, drumming his fingers against the side. “Tell me if you become interested in anything... or any _one_.” He waved to me. “Goodbye now, Andrew.” 

I nodded, as I opened the door. “Goodbye.”

As I made my way through the house and to my new work place, I ruminated on what he said. What could I possibly become interested in at a graveyard of all places? And why did he feel the need to add on “anyone”? Then, I realised something.

Maybe I had already found my interest...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw me editing this because Callisto told me to. No you didn’t. 💗


	2. Meet the Desaulniers, but it’s Girl In Red listeners and their strange family members (B)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by the lovely Callisto! They are in charge of writing chapters where the main focus is Michiko, Mary, and Victor. (And occasionally some others.) Go follow them at @cherrysealbomb!

**[Michiko’s POV]**

Being unable to talk is an interesting experience, to say the least. I mean of course, Mary knows sign language, and my child, Victor, is also mute so of course he knows it. It’s not like I struggle with communicating at home, but something about going through life completely silent, not out of choice but because some sort of higher power up there said, “fuck it, forget the voice”, is strange to think about. I’m sure i could ponder for all of eternity, to be quite frank. 

I find myself thinking things like this quite a bit. Our family’s quiet, that’s just the way it is. I get too much time to think because of it. I’m not unhappy with being mute, I’ve gotten over my whole self hatred thing with the help of loved ones. I just still think about it. 

Interrupting my train of thought were two arms wrapping around my waist. I leaned back into the embrace and looked up at my admirer.

“Hi mon amour.” Mary always drew out her hi’s. 

_Morning, lovely._ I signed, grinning ear to ear, looking back to the eggs I had been making.

Life’s pretty good here. I don’t have much to complain about. Me and my wife own a mansion. Her brother who I had a kid with also lives here with his family. Oh yeah, and the.. child.. I had with the brother is now Mary’s and my adoptive kid. But life seems to be best in moments like these. Where I’m in her arms. Gods, it’s cheesy, but I quite love the domesticity of it all. We just sat there like that for a couple minutes. Mary of course ended up breaking the silence with a, “Chérie could you put cheese on my eggs?” 

I gestured towards the fridge, a general sign to grab the cheese. Mary got the cheese and just like that our silence ended for the morning. 

Barreling down the stairs, Victor got to the kitchen, and I suppose it won’t get LOUD since he’s mute as well, quiet WILL still remain, but where he can’t speak he makes up for in sign language. Whereas Mary and Joseph have french to talk shit in, Victor and I have ASL. Mary may be able to sign, but she definitely can’t keep up with how quickly Victor and I can sign. Great for shit talking. Victor mouthed a “Hey” and slumped down in a chair pulling out his phone. Never mind everything I just said, it’s a quiet day. 

He did some sort of internet thing, Tiktok? He has a pretty decent following, and it surprisingly helped him build a relationship with his uncle Antonio, so what’s the harm? The one downside is that it means he’s constantly on his phone. Mary and I give him privacy and don’t really go through his phone. It’s his personal belonging, none of our business. _Morning, Victor._ Gods this is what made his phone annoying. He has to look up to sign, and he simply, will not look up. I rapped on the table a few times to get his attention. _Morning, Victor._ He caught it that time. 

_Oh, morning Mom._

_How’d you sleep?_

_Pretty well, Andrew woke me up though. He couldn’t be quiet for shit. I don’t know why the hell Joseph’s making him do this job, we’re rich, he doesn’t really need to._ Victor had an annoyed expression on his face. 

_Joseph is passionate about the ethics of hard work. Plus it’s probably a bonus to him to have one less kid in the house._

_Why does he hate kids so much? Like, he puked when he met me. Like, literally puked._ He questioned. 

I thought about it, yes, he had indeed gotten NAUSEOUS. I signed an answer and turned back to the eggs. Mary had just been flipping her head between the two of us for the entire conversation. The whole signing process took the both of us maybe a minute. “Good morning, problem child.” Mary joked. 

Victor looked like he had snorted, and signed back, Good morning, Mary.

Mary laughed, “The eggs done?” 

I realized, I had completely forgotten about the eggs. Making an “O” shape with my mouth, I went over and scooped them out onto a plate. Two no cheese, one with cheese. “Thank you mon amour.” 

**[Mary’s POV]**

I poked around with my eggs and took a bite. Michiko makes killer eggs. It’s because she’s perfect of course. Looking up at the clock, it’s maybe 11:30. Joseph should be up soon. I looked to my right at Victor. This’ll be fun. 

Attempts at conversation with Victor were hard. Not because he’s mute, I understand ASL completely fine. Just cause he’s a teen, his feelings on our family are probably complicated. I ask about friends he says little to nothing, I ask about school, well no, it’s summer right now I can’t quite do that, yeah? 

Ten steps down. Ten steps was when they stopped. I can imagine Joseph is probably staring at Victor, contemplating whether or not he wants to go up or stay down. “Bonjour.” I looked back at him. 

He, of course, responded to with a glare and made his way to the fridge. “Bonjour, Mary.”

He grabbed two bottles and made his way over to the counter. “Allez-vous parler?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not, Mary.” He punctuates his statement with the pop of a cork. 

Joseph’s a red wine for breakfast guy. He’ll get wine drunk at noon, what’s the issue? Michiko signed something to Mary. “Joseph! Michiko says, ‘morning’.”

Victor slouched farther into his chair. He seemed to have somehow shoved his face farther into his phone than it had previously been. Michiko knocked on the table to get his attention and they started signing. Whenever Michiko and Victor sign I find myself unable to keep up. Joseph can barely speak ASL, so I wonder how he finds these exchanges. “Joseph, you should sit with us at the table, cher frére!”

“No”, I rolled my eyes at him. 

“We’re your family, come on.” 

He shrugged and threw himself on the chair closest to Mary. Slouching, he sipped at his wine. Conversation, seemed to be no one in this family’s strong suit. 

“So, where’s Antonio?” I shoved a couple eggs in my mouth.

“He’s out getting groceries, lord knows it’s needed.” I was never a wine person so I can’t get why he swishes his wine every couple minutes, but nevertheless, he finishes that sentence off with a wine swish. 

“Okay, what about Andrew? What’s his new job again?”

“Grave digging or something, honestly, I just remember it was really weird.” Wine swish, again. 

The next ten minutes continued on like this, Me trying to start conversation, Joseph answering the questions, but otherwise not adding much. Victor never signed anything, Michiko chimed in a few times. Eventually, Joseph left taking the whole bottle of wine with him. Then, Victor signed he was going to go hang out with Luca and Edgar. Then, Michiko left to take a shower. I poke at my eggs. I clean the kitchen. Our family’s quiet. That’s just how it is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~! Our writing pace is extremely fast because we are incredibly sexy and cool. Comment down below what you think of the story so far!
> 
> And, *insert exaggerated sigh here,* here is Callisto’s comment.  
> “i’m so sexy omg i wrote this omg i’m so fuckin hot”
> 
> Edit: So, was nobody going to tell me this chapter was fucked up formatting-wise, or was I supposed to figure that out whilst editing the chapter title myself? /lh


	3. Graveyard Shift (A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY WRITING SPEED IS PHENOMENAL AND I AM SLEEP DEPRIVED. THIS CHAPTER IS THE ONLY THING I BELIEVE IS GOOD QUALITY. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT. READ IT.

**[Andrew’s point of view,night shift]**

It was an _interesting_ night, to say the least.

To understand this, some context about the cemetery I work it is required. It is a large place, surrounded by large, rusted iron gates. However, opposite to the cemetary, there is an interesting-looking funeral home which owns the land I work on. They “prefer to keep everything close together, and in a place close to the local people, so that grieving families do not have to worry themselves with travel.” Personally, I find it confusing, but as long as I get paid, it does not matter, right?

And that is where the occurrences of tonight come into play. Aesop Carl was the embalmer working later than he usually did, and I was the one who had to.. _assist_ him. It was getting late, at around 4 am or so. I had unluckily forgotten to bring my phone, which left me without a method of contacting anyone at home, or accurately checking the time, so I had to squint at my watch and attempt to make out the time. I had been digging for quite a while, and was pleased with how I had done so far. I am not exactly a physically fit man, but it did not tire me out as much as I thought it would. As I grimly considered how one day someone would dig a grave for me, and other macabre thoughts, I dug grave after grave. I was halfway through yet another poor soul’s grave when I heard a call in the distance. 

“Excuse me! Gravekeeper! Er.. what was your name again? Ah! Mr Andrew!”  
I immediately stopped digging, dropping my shovel onto the ground in fright. I stared up and off into the distance, to see the shadowy figure standing outside of the gates. His tall stature filled me with dread, but also with intrigue. After a few seconds of processing, I realised it was the embalmer, Aesop, and called out to him. “Aesop? Is that you?”   
He waved to me, nodding. “Yes. I, err.. r-require some assistance. If you are not too busy, could you perhaps...” He seemed stuck on the words, mumbling to himself. “... Could you help?”

  
I began to feel a tinge of anxiety slowly overtake me, filling my brain with static and noise, as I slowly headed towards the gates. Is he okay? Was he hurt? Did something bad happen to him- “This may sound silly, but, uh... I spilled some chemicals whilst embalming. I usually do not work such late shifts, but I had so many tasks that needed completing today that I simply could not finish this one in time. I dropped my rather important gloves into the chemicals, and I despise the way the pre-supplied ones the funeral home gives out feel on my skin. So, if it is not too much to ask, could you help me clean up?”

I immediately realised this man was either incredibly lazy or some sort of perfectionist freak, before pushing down that thought and trying to be sympathetic. Maybe he had a condition and was too shy to admit it? Or maybe he had sensory issues? Either way, I still hastily yelled a response, and left the cemetery. “Ah, so you did decide to help. Come along now, Mr Andrew.”

  
I felt somewhat embarrassed by the formality, but I did not want to upset him. So, I followed him into the funeral home. It looked interesting enough on the outside, but on the inside it seemed blank and sanitary, like a hospital. As I followed him down many different corridors resembling labyrinths, I questioned what kind of man Aesop truly was underneath all of the formalities and kindness. I was interrupted by him gesturing towards a door labelled “Embalming Room”, and a quick “Come along now.” I realised what I was getting myself into, and shuddered. What was I thinking, helping out this mysterious silver-haired man in a room full of corpses? Nevertheless, I was still intrigued by him, and hesitantly opened the door, entering inside, with Aesop following closely behind.

The embalming room was just as sanitary and boring as the rest of the funeral home. It resembled a doctor’s office, with a few differences- there were various different bottles of chemicals scattered around on tables and trays, a makeup box resting on what I presumed to be Aesop’s desk, and a large table-like structure which was where I assumed he did his.. work. Laying on top of it was the body of a young woman, who must have been only about 16 or so. She appeared half-done, as her face was beautifully made up to look as though she was merely sleeping, whilst her chest was covered in grotesque wounds. “Don’t mind the mess, I was... incomplete. Anyways, the spill was near here.” He gestured to the right of the table, where I saw a now-empty plastic bottle laying there, surrounded by a clear, harsh-smelling liquid. He passed me a cardboard box of rubber gloves, which I immediately took a pair from and awkwardly put them on. “Now, here are some paper towels. They are... not exactly the best for cleaning up chemicals, but it is what the funeral home provided me with. I hope you do not mind me attempting to rush you, but please clean it quickly, as I would like to return to my work as soon as possible.”

  
I blankly took the paper towels, whilst trying to internalise my current emotions, which were a mixture of disgust, confusion, and interest. His attitude seemed... polite, but was he using that to hide anger? Did he hate me already? What emotions were hiding under the peculiar mask he wore? I stuttered out a thanks, and began to clean, as Aesop sat down next to his desk. I pretended I did not notice him occasionally glancing at me with an indescribable expression on his face.

  
Cleaning up was quicker than I thought it would be, but it still took a while. As I worked, I mentally considered various aspects of this man that were somewhat abnormal- from the black and white mask obscuring part of his face, to his interesting demeanour and way of dressing. Underneath his white lab coat, he had chosen a dark gray button-up shirt, and black trousers with a belt. Everything about him seemed formal and professional, and it only made me want to learn more about him. Once I was finished cleaning, I stood up, and threw the used paper towels into the “safety hazard disposal bin”, along with the rubber gloves. “I, um, finished cleaning, Mr Aesop.” 

  
I could not tell whether he was content or judging as he stood up and headed towards me to observe whether I had done a good job. He gave a little nod, and blankly stated, “Thank you for cleaning up for me. You did well, I wouldn’t have noticed there was ever a spill here before.”   
I smiled awkwardly, appreciative of his compliment. “Thank you, Mr Aesop-“  
Suddenly, he grabbed the loose fabric of my shirt, and pulled me close to him. His slate grey eyes stared into mine, and I couldn’t help but feel as though I had done something wrong. “W-What are you doing?” I uttered, trying to squirm away from him. 

  
He kept staring at me. It made me feel exposed to him, as “the eyes are the windows to the soul,” after all, However, I was unsure whether this man even had a soul, judging by the way he stared at me. “... You kept staring at me whilst working. I do not know whether you are infatuated with me or are scrutinising me in some way, however it makes me trust you less than I ever thought I could.” He let go of my shirt, before sitting down at his desk. “You may go, Mr Andrew. And... Thank you, I suppose.”

  
I hastily nodded, and nearly ran out of the room, stumbling on my way out. I kept this pace up as I exited the building, and began to return home, as according to my watch it was now 6 am already, which surprised me. There was a light amount of rain crashing down as I headed home, which I suppose fit my mood. I was trembling slightly, realising that all my concerns were coming true. It made it hard to breathe, and I felt as though I was going to sink into the floor and die as I ran home.

**[Antonio’s point of view]**

I had decided to wake up early today. It was around the time Andrew was supposed to come home, and I wandered around the lower parts of the house, humming a song to myself. It was one that I had recently decided to learn on violin to impress my husband, Joseph. As I walked around aimlessly, I thought about Andrew. I wondered if he had enjoyed his first day of “hard, honest work”, as Joseph would say. And I wondered if, like I had advised him to, he had found something or someone who would keep him interested. By that, I was implying that maybe he would fall in love.. A silly proposition, I suppose, but it was a concept that brought me joy. Andrew was my pride and joy, my son, who I considered closer than merely blood family, and I wanted him to experience raw, human love for the first time in his life. He never had many friends growing up, as he never seemed interested in people. Whilst considering this, I suddenly heard the entrance door slam, and the sound of light footsteps entering the home. I headed through the hallway to greet Andrew. “Hello, my darling Andrew-“

  
Andrew suddenly shoved his face into my lower chest, and began to sob, something he had not done in quite a while. I knew he was emotional, but he would usually either hide it or get incredibly anxious. Openly crying i to my chest was a sign of deep distress in him, and by the way he was trembling, I could tell something was horribly wrong. I hesitantly hugged him, and waited for him to speak. “I- T-The job was- _Aesop_ , he-“

  
My heart sank the moment he mentioned a name. I gently began to stroke his hair like I used to do when he was much younger. “Andrew, did.. Did you take my advice too seriously? I am quite sorry, I..”  
He cut me off, and let out a choked gasp, before speaking again. “I t-took it of my own a-accord, and... Aesop h-hates me... but h-he’s perfect, and I... I just wanted to...”  
I gently patted the top of his head, and lightly held onto his arm. “Come now, Andrew, dear. How about we sit down and discuss this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~! Don’t forget to comment any writing advice and opinions you have down below!
> 
> Ooh, yes, a slightly angsty chapter for today! Enjoy PAIN.


	4. Absolute Fucking Chaos (B)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter written by the bright and talented Callisto! I love this chapter quite a lot.  
> Also, a short note from Callisto.
> 
> “fuck VAL thats it”

  
“YOO, in theory, Edgar is the ideal height to suck off Antonio without getting on his knees. Let’s discuss.” Luca made random movements with his hand that wasn’t holding a blunt. 

“Absolutely not, never say that ever again.” Edgar shot that down idea down as quickly as it came up. I signed in agreement. 

“Well, what the fuck else are we supposed to discuss?” I watched as Luca slouched down into the beanbag and took a long drag of his blunt. 

“I don’t know, Balsa, perhaps we could discuss something normal for once.”

 _Absolutely not, we don’t do that here_ , I made sure I wasn’t signing too quick, but not too slow either. Luca picked up what I had said and translated for me. Edgar gave me a look that said, “What the hell?”

Huffing, Edgar crossed his arms and leaned his head back on the beanbag, looking up towards the ceiling. This was how most of our time together ended up going, Edgar and Luca hate-flirting for a couple hours as I mediate. Sometimes we’ll fuck around with tiktok, maybe walk around a strip. Always intoxicated. 

_Pass the blunt,_ I signed, leaning towards Luca. He handed me it and I took a hit. Edgar looked at me and Luca and rolled his eyes. “God, that shit smells disgusting.” 

_Yeah, but the high is fucking amazing, so shut your fuck._ Luca snorted at the wording. 

“Whatever, I’m getting something to drink.” Edgar pushed himself up off the beanbag. 

“Is it alcoholic?” Luca yelled towards him.

“Dunno, I’ll decide on the way up the stairs.” Luca flipped him the finger. 

_So how’re things going with Tracy?_ Luca had been talking to this girl he met in his AP science recently. Talked about her all the time. 

“Ehh”, He shook his hand a little bit, “She’s a little strange.” He shut down that topic quickly. 

“Yo, so like, why doesn’t Andrew ever come along with you? He seems neat. A little funky. A little fresh. A litt-“

 _Absolutely not. You’re not going on with that,_ if allowed Luca can, and will, go on for minutes like that. _He’s weird, and would ruin the mood. Motherfucker works at a graveyard and has a thing for the fuckin- wait, what are those dudes called? Wait._ I pulled out my phone and googled what the fuck the makeup artists for the dead dudes are called. _The embalmer. That bitch. He has a thing for him. It’s fuckin weird._

“You’re so hard on him, babe, and for what? Wait. Waitwaitwait. He didn’t give the dude dirt did he?” Andrew and Luca had had a thing, _twice_. Once in middle school and once in freshman year. In middle school Andrew had given Luca a pile of dirt. That’s it. I’m not elaborating. 

_I don’t think he gave him dirt. Also damn, what’s taking Edgar so fuckin long?_

“No idea wait I’ll go see.” Luca got up and threw his blunt in the ashtray.   
  
_Don’t have hate sex in the kitchen!_ I signed to him. He gave me a look of absolute disgust and stomped up the stairs. 

Luca’s basement was nice. It had a solid gaming setup with an Xbox and a PS4. It had beanbags, loads of air-freshers, a whole ass mini bar which he uses for who knows what. He’s got some awards for some science shit hung up on the wall. Just the usual prodigy shit. I’m thankful my moms aren’t shitty parents, or else I’m sure they would compare me to Luca in an academic sense all the time.

The thing with Luca is that he didn’t look smart. He looked like some stoner, which he is, who wouldn’t get shit in school. But the dude’s in all AP. Edgar’s also some prodigy or whatever with his art shit, they’re just both successful, it’s neat. 

What do I do? 

“YOOOOO, we’re back.” Luca threw himself onto a couch. Edgar had brought down a cup. Who knows what’s in it. Place your bets, I guess, he definitely won’t tell anyone. 

Booting up the PS4, Luca scrolled through a bunch of games. He clicked on a game called Persona 5 royal. He had told me about it and complained about how he, “Literally cannot take it seriously when Akechi is angrily getting off every time he speaks.” That had been forever ago though, I can’t believe he’s _still_ playing this game. 

Edgar flopped down next to Luca and watched the screen. He watched as Luca played through the same part of the same palace over and over again, he seemed to be failing worse and worse every time he played it. 

“I can’t believe you’re still here in the game, give me the controller.” Edgar tried to snatch the controller away from Luca. 

“Like you could do any better, pretty boy.” Luca yanked the controller back towards him. They fought over the controller for a solid five minutes until I just took it and tried the battle. Is that what it’s called? I don’t know, I don’t fuck with this game. 

“God, Vic, no offense, but what the hell are you going to do in a game you’ve never played?” Luca put his arm up on the back of the couch and watched me. I just shrugged and tried anyways. 

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh god this is embarrassing to watch.”

“FUCK- TAKE OUT YOUR- UGH.”

Just some of the helpful coaching Edgar provided. Somehow, some way, I beat that part, and threw the controller back to the other two. They didn’t go back to fighting over it though. They just stared at me in awe. 

“Ayo, Vic, how the fuck did you do that?” I shrugged and went back to the beanbag to scroll through tiktok. 

That’s just sort of how it always went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you think of this chapter~!


	5. Romance No.2 in F Major can really soothe the soul (A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, yes, a continuation of family A shenanigans! (Sadness. They’re sad.) I’m really spoiling you all with this double upload, aren’t I? Well, guess what? Chapter 6 and 7 will also be posted at the same time. I love you all. 💗

** [Antonio’s point of view] **

Andrew had always been a peculiar child. From his pale, colourless skin (the doctor told us it was albinism) to his anxiousness and refusal to socialise much, I always thought of him as confusing and intriguing. This did not mean I loved him any less, however. I composed pieces on violin to play for him, and gave him as much loving care as I could. Joseph tried his best with him, but he was never a fan of children. However, as he grew older, even Joseph began to care for him. He tried to argue that it was “the physical aspect of children that disgusted him”, but personally, I just think he truly began to care for Andrew.

That is why, when I lead him to the large, spacious living room, and instructed him to sit down, I made sure to be as kind as possible to him. “Andrew.. Do you think you could tell me what happened? You do not have to, but.. I feel as though it would help to tell me what made you feel like this.”

His eyes (or at least, eye- he always cut his hair in a way that covered one eye, which was something I never understood) met mine, and I could see true fear in them. For a second, I thought I had done something horribly wrong, and that he was about to start sobbing again. However, after a while, he looked away, staring down at the floor, and began to speak. “I-I was... helping the embalmer, Aesop... he’s so interesting, and he needed help, so I helped him... but I-I kept looking up at him, and it made him not trust me, he  told me  that, and I think he hates me now, but I...” 

He stopped speaking, and looked directly at me once again. I was stuck for words, not wanting to make him feel worse, but also not wanting to lie to him. After a while, I finally thought of something to say. “... He appears to be an interesting man, like yourself. Not trusting you oh, so easily... To you, it may seem like he hates you, but... I think he is merely anxious, as you are.” 

I smiled awkwardly, praying I had said the right thing and hadn’t messed everything up. Andrew seemed to be thinking about what I had said for a while, before he spoke again. “... So he doesn’t hate me? He’s just... afraid?”

I nodded, glad that he had understood. “Indeed... He does seem like a very interesting person, though. Tell me more about him.”

This seemed to excite him, and despite the fact that he still seemed nervous over what had happened, he began to talk at ease. “He’s.. about my age. He’s tall, and despite how young he is, his hair is completely grey... Well, it’s not grey, it’s silver. Like, actually silver. He wears a mask, kind of like a surgical mask, but it’s black and white, and he never takes it off. He only wears specific gloves whilst working because he doesn’t like how the ones the funeral home gives him feel on his skin, and he seems to enjoy his job. He’s... beautiful.” Andrew made vague gestures with his hands as he spoke, something which he usually did not do, but I did not question it.

I listened to him speak, clearly very interested in what he had to say about this man. As he spoke, I slowly began to consider something. Was he... in love? Or was it a mere fascination? Either way, I listened to him.

All of a sudden, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I prayed it wasn’t Victor, as despite how much I enjoyed talking to him, and playing certain.. songs.. on my violin so he could show it off on his “Tiktok”, he and Andrew seemed to be on bad terms, and I didn’t want him to become even more upset.

The footsteps became closer, and someone opened the door. I let out a sigh of relief when I found out it was none other than my love, Joseph.

** [Joseph’s point of view] **

I entered the room, and was greeted by the sight of a nervous-looking Andrew discussing something with Antonio, who was listening intently. He noticed I was here, and my love stood up and hugged me. “Hello, darling! I was just, err... discussing something with Andrew.” 

He let go of me, and gestured to the seat next to Andrew. “Would you like to sit down? I just remembered that I have something to show you.” 

I nodded, and sat down next to Andrew, who looked at me with a confused expression on his face. Antonio hurried off to get something, and I stared at Andrew. I knew I would have to talk to him, and so I did. “... Hello, Andrew. Comment ça va?” 

He knew basic French, something which I had delightfully taught him, so he shrugged and answered, “Not good, but also... Not bad. And you?”

Him responding in English always irritated me, but I still responded. “I’m okay, I suppose. A _certain two people_ walking around the house and talking loudly  did wake me up, but waking up early once can’t hurt, can it?”

He was about to respond, when Antonio entered the room again, holding his violin. I immediately knew he was about to play something beautiful. My love’s talent was immeasurable, and I always felt at ease whenever he played for me.

“I learnt this for you, Joseph, my love. T-This is.. Romance No. 2 in F Major, by Beethoven.”

He began to play, and I noticed Andrew slowly begin to calm down from whatever had made him so nervous whilst he was talking to Antonio. I too felt calm, and I noticed him smile at me as he played. Antonio was the kind of person to slowly pace around whilst he did something, and surprisingly, he could still play whilst wandering around the room. When he played, it seemed less like he was walking and more like he was floating ever so slightly, but I knew that was just my mind playing tricks on me.

After a while of playing, the song ended, and he smiled at both of us. “So, what do you think?”

We both stared at him, astonished by his ability. I was the first one to speak, unsurprisingly. “Mon chéri... That was beautiful. You amaze me every time, darling...”

Andrew appeared to be lost for words, staring up at Antonio. Instead of worrying himself with explaining, he simply smiled, and stated, “Thank you.”

Antonio smiled at the compliments he was receiving. “Thank you. Your kindness is most appreciated. However, it is getting late- well, early for us, but late for Andrew, so... I think it is about time you slept.”

He sighed, and stood up. “I suppose I should, so um... I shall see you all later. And... Thank you, Dad, for your... kind words earlier.”

As he exited the room, I turned to look at Antonio. “Mon chéri, is he.. going through some sort of hard time? He seemed nervous earlier.”

He chuckled softly, and smiled. “I do believe that our lovely son may be in  love,  darling. Or, at least, interested in somebody. But, he does seem worried about how the one he cares about perceives him, so, I am trying my best to help.”

This statement surprised me. Andrew had always been anxious and anti-social, so hearing there was a possibility he had fallen in love with someone sounded.. almost unrealistic. “I-In love? Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Indeed he is. I only hope the man he loves does not break his heart...”

I spent a few seconds processing what my love had said to me. Andrew was in love with a  _man_?  This did not exactly surprise me, but it was slightly unexpected that he loved anybody at all.

“I hope so too, mon chéri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you think of this chapter~


	6. The Dreaded Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Callisto’s writing more than I love my own. They’re so much more creative than I am. Also, because I’m concerned about someone mentioning it, my apologies if any of our writing seems out of character. We’re trying our best.

**This chapter contains mild NSFW themes (vaguely referenced, not described), and underage drinking. Aesop gets drunk. If these topics bothers you, skip to the next chapter!**

**[Victor’s point of view]**

I hate Andrew Desaulnier. 

I'm going to make this clear. I know he’s my (adopted) brother, and logically, we _could_ bond about being neglected and hated by Joseph Desaulnier, but that’s not going to happen. Andrew, whether intentionally or unintentionally, manages to mess up my life in every way possible. I’ll make a list, goddammit. 

In junior year, he walked in on me about to lose my virginity to _Fiona fucking Gilman_. Poor girl got so scared she's terrified to enter my house to this day. I don’t blame her. If I were about to get fucked by somebody, and a manlet albino walks in right before it happened, I’d be scared too. 

Second of all, he almost _killed my dog._ He was helping my mom out with making chocolate chip pancakes and spilled the chocolate chips and my dog got to them. 

Fiona wasn’t even the first time he scared a girl. This time it wasn’t sex or anything, I was just hanging out with my friend Emma. He walked down the stairs and Emma puked. Granted, she _was_ drunk on rum, but doesn’t change the fact she puked. 

This is just a small portion of the list, damnit. 

Luca though, does _not_ hate Andrew Desaulnier. He has some sort of soft spot for my terrible brother. Not in a romantic way, as he has a girlfriend right now, just in a friendly way. I think it’s since Andrew had a thing for Luca when we were in seventh grade, and he just sort of feels bad about Andrew’s bad social skills. 

So, logically, it shouldn’t have surprised me when Edgar was calling up Demi Bourbon and asking for her to hook us up with some alcohol for Saturday night, that Luca piped up and said we should invite Andrew. 

I mean, Andrew would be at the house. He lives here too. But, he would probably stay up in his room the whole time. I thought about it for a second. _Sure_ , I reluctantly signed, _If he does something weird though, it’s on you, Balsa._

The brunette put his hands by his heart. “Scout's honor, Sir.” I rolled my eyes at that and Edgar hung up the phone. 

“So Demi’s gonna bring a few bottles of gin and vodka. Norton will probably end up hauling over a bottle of liquor, and if Luca can lockpick Joseph's wine room, then we should be good.” Edgar counted on his fingers as he spoke. Looking up, thinking it over again, just to nod an affirmation that he was, as usual, correct. 

“You’re sure everyone’s out of town this weekend?” Luca confirmed.

 _Yeah, it’s my moms twenty-third anniversary, and Joseph and Antonio are flying out to Montreal_. I looked between Luca and Edgar. Parties were usually held at Edgar's place. His parents were never home due to business-related stuff and the wine cabinet was always open. However, my place is always the goal, since it’s huge, and we have a shit ton of alcohol. Getting wine drunk isn’t always what you’re looking for. 

“Cool, cool, let me call up Norton and a few others and we should be good to go.” Luca pulled out his phone and started dialing god knows who. He always manages to get people to come wherever. It’s because he's so popular.

Opening the door to my social reject of a brother's room, he jumped and looked up from his laptop. “Yes?”. Andrew’s baggy eyes always startled me when I looked at him. 

_Hey, so there’s gonna be a whole party thing on Saturday night if you wanna come down or.. whatever._ Andrew couldn’t speak ASL, but he understood it, if that makes sense. 

“Uhh, who’s all coming?”, He raised a brow. 

_God, I don’t know. Norton’s whole group, Demi Bourbon, Mike’s whole gang, Luca’s girlfriend Tracy, some other people maybe? I don’t really know, it’s Luca who invited everyone. I’m just guessing right now._ Andrew looked like he thought about it for a second, and he declined, saying he might come down and that he’ll think about it. 

Thank god I don’t have to deal with _that_. He’d just stand awkwardly in a corner and drink at his drink whilst seeming incredibly anxious about nothing in particular, never getting drunk because he’s very much not a lightweight. Last time he was at a party where he actually drank a large amount of alcohol (due to peer pressure), it took a whole bottle of tequila for him to get drunk. It’s the exact opposite with Luca. The dude can get drunk from a sip of beer, it’s crazy. He complains about it, since being a lightweight isn't good for his carefully crafted fuckboy image, but the way I see it, dude's just gotta spend less on alcohol. 

Speaking of beverages, I should probably drink water. I forget to do that quite often, at the price of my own health. I practically flew down the stairs to go get a glass. I always sort of fly down stairs, metaphorically or _literally._ I got to the bottom of the stairs, and had Mom One (Mary) greet me with a classic, “Bonjour, mon fils.” Her and Mom Two (Michiko) were curled up on the couch whilst watching some garbage TV show. Me and Mary had learned morse code a while ago. I'm not the best at it, but it’s useful for having conversations when someone can’t look at my signs. 

I asked what they were watching, it was something on Disney +. The Mandalorian, I think. I never really liked Star Wars, but those two marathon all the movies once every three months. I listened to the crashing of ice falling into my cup, and filled it with water. We own one of those fridges with different ice settings and different water temperatures, and then the other side's a smart fridge. It's too fancy if you ask me, but we can afford it, so obviously we will buy it. 

I slammed down onto the loveseat. Michiko was curled up next to Mary with her head laid on the other woman’s neck. That must’ve been a hard thing to get both of their legs to fit on the couch, since they’re both so tall. They could’ve been models from their height alone. Michiko stands at six-foot-four, and Mary is around six-foot. Pretty much all of our family was tall. Joseph was five-ten, and wears heels that boost him up to around six-one, because he's oh so insecure about being small. Antonio is the tallest, at about six-nine. I find it absolutely terrifying to walk into a room and just see a titan with waist length hair playing a violin, but somehow I still haven't died of shock yet.

The tall gene must’ve skipped a generation, since I’m only five-nine and Andrews five-seven. Andrew is adopted, so I don’t know if that counts, but it still counts because the gene skipped a generation for me.

Anyways, back to the actual events that are happening, of which I don’t know what the hell is happening. I do not watch Star Wars. “Do you want me to explain the plot to you?” Mary asked this with full intent to give me a speech about the Star Wars lore. I did not want that. 

_No offense what-so-ever, but I do not want to know about the Star Wars plot and lore._ I tapped it out on the armest of the couch. 

“The Star Wars gore?” She had a confused look on her face. Michiko signed a correction. 

_No, honey, I think he meant lore._ Mary made an “O” shape with her mouth. 

I asked about their anniversary plans and they both perked up. “Well, ma chérie wanted to try this restaurant over in Chicago, so we’re headed over there for the weekend. We’re probably going to hang around the pier, go sight seeing.. That sort of stuff.” She had a sparkle in her eyes. Those two were so in love, it was sickening. 

The conversation went from there, jumping from thing to thing. Michiko didn’t chime in much, I’m pretty sure she was asleep, to be honest. Violin music started to play from the upstairs. I checked my phone, and surely enough, it was that time of day again. Time for Antonio to wander around the house and play music from five pm to seven pm, just because he could. I decided to head upstairs and go to sleep. I’m oddly exhausted, for one reason or another. It could be the vitamin D deficiency, or it could be the sleep deprivation. Who knows? Let's find out on today’s episode of: Will! I! Sleep!

-

I slept. Almost too much. Nearly slept through Edgar sitting on my stomach. Edgar was light, but it was still painful. "Wake up, _sleeping beauty._ ” He said "sleeping beauty" with a ridiculous mocking tone that made me want to shove him off of me and onto the floor.

 _Is Luca here yet?_ I stretched, rubbing at my eyes. It took Edgar a minute to get the question. He wasn’t bad with ASL, just slow. He’s trying, though.

“He’ll be here in ten minutes. Stupid bastard refuses to ride in a car." Edgar punctuated his statement with an eye roll. “I can't really blame him, a car accident would make me scared of cars too. Especially if I ended up with brain damage from it like he did.”

He stared at me for a while. It took me a second to realize I should probably get dressed. 

I sifted through my closet. It's not like I didn’t have clothes to wear, I definitely had enough clothes. I just didn’t know which ones to wear. I settled on a band t-shirt, a pair of painter's pants, and a belt. I showed Edgar the outfit, and he nodded in approval, so it must be somewhat okay by his standards. 

Right after I had put on the clothes, the man himself, Luca Balsa, burst through the door. “YOOOO sup, fuckers!” 

I signed my greeting, and Edgar greeted Luca with a slap to the back of the head. Very polite. I looked at the clock on my phone. Naib and his whole group should be here soon, followed by Demi, and William and all of them, and then Emma, Emily and Fiona. The list goes on. 

“Norton’s almost here.” Luca was staring at the “I’m on the way!" message from Campbell. 

We made conversation about this and that until we heard the doorbell. Luca rushed over to the door at a remarkable speed.

“YOOO how’s my favorite slut?” He slapped Norton on the back, the pitcher just smiled and greeted Luca in a similar manner. The size difference between the two was remarkable. Norton standing at six-two, and Luca at five-six. Naib looked even shorter next to Norton, despite being only one inch shorter than Balsa. 

“We brought alcohol.” Naib handed me a bottle of whiskey. Things between us weren’t awkward, so to say, just a little... funky. An addition to the list of reasons I hate Andrew Desaulnier was how in freshman year he convinced me to send Naib Subedar, star of the track team, a love letter. He was my first crush on a guy, and when I showed him the letter he was polite enough about it. He just gave an embarrassed smile and pointed towards the baseball team's star, Norton Campbell, and took a drink from his water bottle. 

Those two had been a couple since who knows when, and they’re still going steady. I took the bottle of gin. _Appreciate your contribution, soldier._ I signed and then gave a salute. Luca translated and Naib snorted. 

“No problem. Glad to be an enabler.” As he said that, I noticed an awkward green bean of a man standing behind him. He wore a mask despite none of them being sick anyway. It's not like there’s some global pandemic with the same name as a brand of beer, that’d be crazy and could never happen. He seemed like a total nerd, I mean, who wears a black turtleneck sweater to a party? Martha was saying something to him, probably trying to get him to loosen up if I had to guess. I shrugged and put the beer on the counter and started pouring drinks as more people trailed in.

You forget how popular Naib and Norton are until your house is full of people you don’t know purely from their invitation. 

Demi arrived with even more drinks, having carpooled with William and Tracy. That was weird that Tracy had came with William and not Luca. Maybe something happened between them. Who knows. I decided to simply not bring it up. After Demi arrived was when my memory starts to get fuzzy. 

I’m what the kids call, a lightweight. I black out within two red cups and have to have people tell me what happened. I guess that’s what comes with your biological dad being able to get wine-drunk at 10 in the morning. So halfway through the night, at around ten pm, I feel myself getting hazy. The last thing I remember is laughing so hard the vodka-fanta mix I was sipping at spilled through my nose, and seeing the mask-wearing loser walking up the stairs. 

Then it all goes black. 

**[Aesop's point of view]**

I hate parties. “But Aesop, it could help with your hatred of people to be around others more often!" I _despise_ anyone who says that. Attending parties makes my hatred of people ten times worse. Everyone’s loud and drunk and I usually end up the designated driver. Try driving when Martha is drunk off her rocker and trying to tell you a story, while Norton and Naib are hate-making out in the backseat of your car. 

Not fun what-so-ever. 

But, every now and again, Martha or Naib somehow convince me to go to one. This was one of those parties. 

“Aesooop, I’ll even drive! You just need to get out for once and do something fun.” Martha tried to convince me while I worked on tying her ponytail she had somehow messed up. Jesus christ, how do you mess up a ponytail this badly in _two (2) hours_?

“Sure,” I could see Martha light up, despite me being unable to see her face. “Where even is it?” 

“Victor Desaulnier.” I frowned, I could’ve sworn I’ve heard that last name before. Not with a Victor in front of it though, I’ve heard his name dozens of times. 

“Also, Vera is going to be there. I need to talk to her! I’ll die if I can’t. I’m in love, Aesop, it's a disease.” I finish with the ponytail and slap her on the back of the head. 

“I do not believe horny people are real. Be quiet.” I move over to my computer chair, about to go back to looking at articles on different serial killers. True crime is fun, what can I say?

“Tell that to @tedbundyshusband on tumblr.” I choke on nothing. 

“That was a low blow, Martha. I haven’t had the urge to.. do any disgusting acts with a serial killer since I shut down the blog at age 14. I’m a reformed man.” God, that phase was gross. It got to the point where I had a whole hate-date relationship with a dude who kept pointing out how creepy it was that I did this. He was right, I feel horrid about the whole ordeal looking back. 

“Aesop Carl, I refuse to believe it.” It took me a minute to figure out whether she meant that seriously or not. Tones are hard. People are hard. 

“Anyways, I’m heading out. Thanks for the movie, Aesop.” I waved her goodbye and scrolled through the article I was reading, taking a long sip out of my Pepsi. Pepsi is superior to Coke, and everyone who says otherwise is incredibly incorrect.. Not really though, I’m sure they have their reasons for liking something so inferior.

It feels as though I blink, and then all of the sudden I’m sitting in Norton Campbell's car instead of in my room scrolling through socials, or Wikipedia, or Netflix. His car isn’t small, it isn’t large either. The tires make a small noise whenever he stops that always annoys me a little. I find myself wondering if anyone else notices it. 

Martha’s talking to Naib, who sits in the passenger seat next to his boyfriend. Of course. Norton chimes in from the driver's seat sometimes. I have no idea what the conversation is about, I should care, but I’m more happy just to sit and look out the window. I can already tell that this neighborhood's rich, it’s even gated. I have some.. _strong opinions_ on rich people, but I don't mention it often.

Martha leaned back onto my lap. Apparently, the conversation was over. Again, I wasn’t really paying attention. Oops. 

Martha shoves her phone into my face. I push it back just to grab it. It was picture of an apartment with an indie aesthetic. She’s quite into the fantasy of running away with a “sexy lady", as she puts it. It’s either that, or joining the military. “Isn’t this apartment sexy?” I raise a brow at her. 

“I wouldn’t describe any building as ‘sexy’.” Norton lets out an exaggerated gasp from the front of the car. 

“What do you mean buildings can’t be sexy!?” He swerves the car through a gate and into a rather long driveway. “Anyways, we’re here.” 

He simply does not continue the train of thought. I opened my mouth to explain, before realizing he probably was being sarcastic. Martha snatches her phone from my hand and jumps out of the car. I open the door and swing my legs out, before letting myself jump to the ground. I never understood why his car was so tall.

While Norton and Naib talk to the host about alcohol and other terrible things, Martha leans up to me and whisper-shouts a reminder that I’m not the designated driver and can "get super drunk and fuck around for once."

I won’t drink. It tastes horrid, and I hate being drunk. 

And I would’ve stuck to that if not for The Blonde Bastard himself, Mike Morton. His existence pisses me off. I don’t have a good reason, I’m just aware he’s a dislikable person. So when he dares me to do five shots of tequila, I can’t _not_ do it. 

I’m a lightweight. I’m proud of that. I’m.. too proud of that. I spend less on alcohol, consume less calories, and I think that’s cool of me. So, I’m a little drunk at the moment. It’s okay, I think. Except, I’m hot as fuck. There's so many people. I should remove my mask. Yeah, that’s smart. I’ll just... let it hang off my ear. Yeah, that works. 

Luca Balsa’s a fun time. He dances fun, and I dance fun, it’s a great time on the dance floor? Is that what this is called? Oh hey, Martha’s coming over here. 

“Want another beer?” Another? Huh, anyways, I’ll take the beer, don’t mind if I do. I take another sip. 

“By the way! I’m leaving with Vera! Sorry!” Huh. Good for her. 

“Go get her, Martha!” Was that me? Who knows, it was someone. 

I’m off the dance floor now. With a different cup. I left the other one somewhere, don’t want to get drugged. So I got myself another. Norton and Naib are going upstairs. Are they gonna..? No, they wouldn’t. Probably. 

I’m on a table now. We're just getting crazier and crazier, huh? Demi’s up with me. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to her before. “Go white boy, go!” Never thought I’d hear someone say that unironically. 

It’s hot down here. I’m hot. I’m tired. I can't drive myself home, I'm too drunk for that. Everything feels so loud and I need to get out. This is so pathetic of me. I need to leave. I need to get upstairs, now. Wait, this is hard. How do I walk normally again? I keep stumbling like an idiot. I got it. I’m so good at this. I’m about to open a door. Oh, wait, that’s.. ew. I shut the door and try not to vomit from the disgusting sight. Okay, maybe not that door. I'll skip two doors over. Ooh, a bed. I'm so tired. I flip down on the bed. 

“Who-” Someone sits up from the bed. “Who are you? Oh wait! Oh wait..” I look up at him. He’s really pretty, and cute, and hot. Aesop, don’t fuck this up. 

“You’re really fucking hot. You look like a Juan. I bet your name's Juan. Am I right?” With every sentence I sit further up on the bed. He looks shocked. Did I say something bad? Oh, fuck. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Aesop, I work with you.” 

“No, you don’t, silly. I would've noticed a hottie like you sooner.” I wouldn’t have, but still.

“We should kiss. Like, right now. I think that’d be cool of us.” Wait, that was stupid of me to say. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid Aesop.

“I think you’re drunk.” He said it flatly, matter-of-factly. That was cute. 

“I’m _sorryyyyy_..” That sounded whiny. That sounded stupid. I need to explain to him.

"I was going to go to the other room, because it’s really loud and too warm downstairs. By the way, can I take my shirt off? I’m gonna take my shirt off. O-Okay, but back to what I was saying." It definitely made a difference to take it off, wearing a turtleneck was not a smart choice. "People are having sex- gross, right? Yeah, they're doing that in the other room. That’s so bad. We shouldn’t do that. We should kiss, though.” Okay, I think he understands now. He looks really confused, I think he understands and is messing with me. 

“Uh, wow, okay. You.. took your shirt off.” He was bright red, staring at me. Wait, is he hot too? Well he’s hot, but, like, is he _literally_ hot? 

“You.. You look hot, like literally. It's not because I find you incredibly attractive, which I do, but like... that’s different.” His shoulder looks comfy. 

“First off, my name is Andrew, you know this. We work together. We spoke _yesterday_." Whaaat? We didn’t.. “And secondly, I am most certainly not hot.” He blinks a couple times. His eyelashes are so long.. He's pretty. 

I put my hand on his chest. He seems really strong for his height. Andy’s packing some muscle. “Whaaat? You're so hot. By the way, can I..” I kiss him on the cheek. “Do that. To you. On the lips. You’re really pretty.” I look into his eyes from where my head is on his chest. Just for a moment. Pink. Pink eyes, like a gentle flower. So handsome. My eyes probably look stupid. Stupid. Stupid Aesop. 

“No, you’re drunk, and cannot consent to that.” Ugh, he’s nice too. I’m in love with Drew. 

“Whaaaat, Dreeeew..." I should run a hand through my hair. “OH WAIT, I DIDN’T MEAN TO HIT YOU! I’m sorry. That was stupid.” Don’t cry. Don't cry, not in front of him, you'll just seem even stupider- Oh wait, there are the tears. I feel ridiculous. 

“Wait, no, it’s fine, please don’t cry!” He leans down and pushes the hair out of my face. My heartbeat feels too fast all of a sudden. Gross. Feelings. 

He kissed my forehead and I gasped. “Does Andy _looove_ me?” He went bright red. Change the subject, Aesop. 

“Ugh, the people who own this house are so rich. Rich people suck.” Oh, yes, this is a good topic of conversation. He looks confused for a second. 

“Y-Yeah, uhh, rich people are the worst.” I pushed myself off of him and stood up. I’m so about to rant. That’ll be so sexy of me. Not in a sex way, obviously. In an impressive way.

“They, like, hoard money, yeah? And for what? F-For like, useless vases and shit. That's what. What do you think the most expensive thing in this house is?” There’s an idea. 

“Why?”

“So I can steal it, duh.” Andy’s funny, how could he not know that.

“Aesop, you could go to _jail_ , please do not.”

“Ugh, fine. I guess I don’t have to steal anything.” He laughs. I’m so funny and cool. Even Drew thinks so. I throw myself back at the bed. 

“I’m gonna go get water.” I declared that so strongly. That’s so fun of me.

“Do you know where the kitchen is?”  
  
“Do _you_?”

I’m going down to the kitchen with Andy. We got to the door and to the stairs, but then we heard someone moan and went back to the room. Horny people are getting in the way of my _hydration_ , damnit. Kill them all. Wait a second, don't do that, I like Martha. She’s nice to me. 

“People really are having sex in the guest room, huh?” I crinkled my nose. It just came to me that this is someone’s house. How could they do that in someone else's home? Disgusting. 

“We’re going anyways.” I march back to the door, and he follows. We get to the kitchen. The stove clock read 3:06 A.M, and people are still here? Gross. People-likers disgust me.

Andrew squints at something. He looks like he’s stifling a laugh. “Yo, Luca!” Some dude with a ponytail looks up from the couch. Did I dance with him? He gets followed by a smaller guy with strange hair who grabs onto the couch. The smaller dude looks towards Drew with a look of dread in his eyes. “Get it, Luca!” And then we go upstairs. 

“You could pick me up right? You’re strong.” I set my water on the thing. Is it a dresser?

“Well, yeah, I guess-" I run at him. 

“Wait, Aesop I’m holding-“ I jump at him. 

“-water..” Oh. Well, he’s holding me now. That’s really cute. 

I sat like that for a minute. We probably look funny, since I’m so much taller than him. “Throw me on the bed, pleaaase, I’m tired.” Andy looks shocked. I say it again. He looks like he’s gonna protest, but then he doesn’t. And throws me onto the bed. 

I roll over and puke onto the floor. “Wait, I’m really sorry! That was really embarrassing. I’m so stupid.” I grimace at the vomit sinking into the carpet. He waves his hand and stands there. 

“Get into the beeed.” I whined that last part. Is he not getting in the bed because he thinks I’m gross? Wait, no, no, no, I’m so stupid. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just, um.." I glare at him for a second, “Sleep here.” I’m a magician. He's next to me on the bed now. Who’s bed even is this? Who cares. 

Everything feels like it’s going to be alright when I'm with him. He’s.. really comfortable. Like, really. It’s because he’s so perfect. He’s my pillow at the moment. 

I wrap my arms around him and start dipping my toes into the pool known as sleep. Everything starts going dark. I could already tell that my head was going to hurt like hell tomorrow. Everything’s nice right now, though, and that’s what matters. 

-

I awoke with my head hurting as expected and my body still entangled with Andrew's. I immediately was filled with a sense of shame, and moved away from Andrew, getting out of the bed whilst being careful as to not wake him up. How could I act like this around him? He probably hated me now. I had to find a way to make it up to him. I grabbed my turtleneck off the floor, putting it on, then searched my trouser pockets, desperately searching for the small notebook I kept with me at all times. Luckily, I didn't forget it, and pulled it out. I wrote a quick apology, and flipped it over to write down my phone number, before ripping it out, folding it, and leaving it on his bedside table. Hopefully that should be enough. He looked so peaceful whilst he slept. I dizzily left the room, desperate to get out of here.

I love Andrew.. wait, I don’t know his last name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you think! <3


	7. Graveyard Shift 2, Electric Boogaloo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISED A DOUBLE UPLOAD, AND YOU GET A DOUBLE UPLOAD. HELLO LGBTQ COMMUNITY.

**[Andrew’s point of view]**

I awoke to a mess of a room and a feeling of exhaustion. As I looked around, I tried to recollect the events of last night. Victor’s party.. I sat up, stretching, before processing something. Aesop had been in my room. He slept here. He _kissed me_. I immediately collapsed back down onto my bed, groaning. How did this happen? Did he mean what he said yesterday? He wasn’t here anymore, so I couldn’t ask him. 

I finally got the courage to get up out of my bed, and grabbed my phone to check the time, and noticed something on my bedside table I did not remember. A small piece of paper, folded up neatly. I hesitantly picked it up, and unfolded it. I was immediately greeted with rather beautiful, yet hard to read, handwriting.

“My most sincere apologies for last night. I hope there is something I can do to make up for it. Also, I have written my phone number down on the back of the paper, if you still consider me a worthwhile person and want to talk to me.

\- Aesop Carl”

I flipped it over, and sure enough, he had left me his phone number. This oddly made me feel.. Nervous. Did he leave it as an apology, or did he genuinely want to speak to me? I opened up my phone, and quickly saved him as a contact. I didn’t message him, because I didn’t know what to say.

I hoped I wouldn’t mess it up when I could think of what to say.

**[Aesop’s point of view (I bet you weren’t expecting this one again, huh?)]**

I had once again ruined something.

Ever since Andrew had shown up, I had felt... Infatuated with him. Love was a complicated emotion for me, since I surround myself with the dead so much I often consider myself as one of them. Peacefully embalming them, knowing that I was responsible for giving them the utmost care and respect as they reached their final destination, was all I needed in life, or so I thought. Andrew was like a lit match thrown into a forest; he lit up my heart and made me feel alive. I had never been more certain about my emotions than I was now.

However, it made me afraid. Fear was another complicated emotion for me, and I often have trouble with feeling too much of it. Instead of showing how much stress I truly feel, I hide them deep inside of me, along with all of the other complex emotions I did not care to show. My mask concealed more than just my face, it concealed the deepest parts of me that I simply could not show.

And I had taken it off. I had allowed myself to indulge in my emotions, by first pushing him away the first time we met, then by expressing myself freely whilst at the party. It made me feel ashamed of myself. 

That was why I was stood outside the gates of the cemetery, awaiting Andrew’s arrival whilst clutching an energy drink like it was my life force. In a way, it was, since I do not tend to sleep much at night, if at all. Especially when I had gotten minimal sleep last night because of that awful party. I tapped my foot against the hard pavement outside the entrance, occasionally checking my watch. He should be here by now, shouldn’t he? Before my worries could get the best of me, I heard soft footsteps approaching the gates. I turned towards the direction of the noise, to see none other than my beloved Andrew, his cheeks slightly flushed from running here. I often questioned why he chose to walk here, but it wasn’t exactly my business to ask. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw me standing next to the gates, and he stopped walking, standing a few feet in front of me. “Aesop, I... I wasn’t expecting to see _you_ , of all people.”

All of a sudden, the emotions I had repressed for so long began to rise to the surface. No, no, no... This can’t happen, not again, not in front of Andrew.. I took a deep breath, and slightly adjusted my mask. I made an attempt to make rather brief eye contact with him, something which I had always found difficult, no matter who I was talking to. “Yes, it does seem unexpected, does it not? Listen, I came here to apologise. My behaviour the first time we met was... irrational and paranoid, and I should not have acted like that towards you. And again, at the party, I was out of control. I believe you are a rather kind, polite young man, and I enjoy your presence.”

I stared down at the floor, praying that was a good response. For a few moments, he was completely silent, and I was afraid I had upset him, or that he did not want to forgive me. But when I finally gathered what little confidence I had left and actually looked at him, he was smiling, oddly enough. God, his smile was beautiful. I pushed back thoughts of how he gently kissed my forehead at the party, and tried to stay calm. “I.. Aesop, I completely forgive you for it. It’s understandable.”

Well, that was definitely not something I was expecting. I was so glad I was wearing my mask, because if I wasn’t, Andrew would clearly be able to see how much that statement pleased me. And, oh god, am I blushing? Will he notice? Before I could say anything, he spoke again. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be getting home?”

Thank god- or rather, thank Andrew for that quick topic change. I knew what my response was, but I felt too shy to say it. I tried to calm myself, and reminded myself that Andrew wasn’t much of a judgemental person, and it’d be fine. “Actually, I, erm.. I wanted to stay with you whilst you worked, as an apology for my behaviour. It must get lonely out here, does it not?”

What the hell was I doing, saying things like this? He probably doesn’t feel the same way about me, hell, he probably only talks to me out of pity! Worries like this filled my head, until I finally gathered the courage to look at his face, and noticed he was.. blushing? “I really appreciate it, Aesop.. If you really believe I am worthy of your time, then of course.”

He opened the gates to the cemetery, and picking up two things hidden away in a box near the entrance- a shovel with some sort of white fabric wrapped around it, and a pair of gardening gloves. He slipped on the gloves, and began to walk towards an empty patch of land. “This is where they told me to dig for tonight... Feel free to sit down on the ground or something, just be careful not to sit on a grave or anything. It’s bad luck.”

It was interesting to learn that he was superstitious, as he didn’t seem like the sort of person to believe that. I shrugged, and stayed standing, taking a quick sip of the energy drink I was still holding. “It’s fine, I prefer standing. Plus, I’d rather avoid the chance of sitting on a grave and disturbing the dead.”

He nodded, smiling at me, and for a second, my heart lit up with joy. “Fair enough. Now..” He went back to staring at the ground, seemingly planning out how he was going to dig the grave. After a while, he picked up the shovel, and began to dig. I silently watched him, occasionally sipping my energy drink. He seemed so strangely beautiful, and the way his pale skin and hair stood out against the dark of night made him seem more perfect than the moon ever could be. Andrew was incredibly unique, from his skin tone (I believe he mentioned that he had albinism once, but my memory is too fuzzy to recall it properly), to the cross-shaped scar on his cheek, to the way his hair covered one of his eyes. It was embarrassing how much I loved him, and I silently readjusted my mask. Andrew must have noticed it, because he quickly glanced at me, and asked, “Hey, Aesop, why do you wear that mask all the time? I mean, you did take it off at the party, but... Why do you even wear it?”

What an awkward question. I tried to think of a good enough answer, but I couldn’t think of one that did not involve lying. I hated lying, but I suppose that today I would be forced to. “I, uh.. I just don’t like people seeing my face. Plus, it’s more sanitary. Last night, I was pretty influenced by the alcohol, so.. I took it off. I wish I didn’t.’”

He returned to digging, and I prayed he would believe my lie. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but at the same time, it most certainly was not the full truth. “I understand that... I suppose I keep my other eye covered for the same reason. Except for the sanitary part, of course.”

We continued like this for a while. Andrew dug away at various graves, leaving empty holes and piles of dirt where they were needed, whilst we occasionally engaged in conversation. I learnt that yes, Andrew was indeed albino, and that he had a rather.. interesting family, and also that he was quite rich, but being forced to work to learn “important life lessons.” The more I learnt about him, the more I loved him. He was perfect, and I was desperate for him to love me.

After what felt like both a year and a minute, Andrew noticed the sun beginning to rise, and tossed his shovel to the ground. I noticed how he seemed to sway ever so slightly; did it really tire him out that much? “Andrew, are you alright?”

He sleepily nodded, and pulled off the gardening gloves, sighing and sitting on the floor. I could tell that the poor man was desperately in need of a good sleep from the way his eyes slowly opened and closed, as though he kept falling asleep for a few seconds at a time. After a while, he snapped awake, and looked up at me. “I’m fine, I’m just.. sleepy.”

I shook my head, and grabbed his arm, practically dragging him off the ground. He let out a small yelp as I picked up his shovel and gloves for him, tucking the gloves away into a pocket and holding onto the shovel tightly. “Come on, Andrew. I’ll drive you home, okay?”

He once again nodded, too tired to disagree with me. We both walked to the exit together, with me keeping a tight grip on his arm still, in case he fell over because of how tired he was. He was so cute when he was sleepy, and I loved it. Andrew mumbled something incoherent, and then laughed. “What was that, Andrew?”

He stared right at me, smiling. I had the strangest feeling that I was going to regret ever asking him what he said. “You don’t have to hold onto my arm, y’know.. You can hold my hand if you want.”

I both regretted asking and was glad I was. He started laughing again, and I stared at the floor, completely red and embarrassed. Was he serious? Could I actually... I decided to test it. “You know what? Maybe I will, Andrew.”

I readjusted my mask quickly, and let go of his arm, immediately holding onto his hand instead. His hands felt rather cold, but I tried not to care about it. I quickly glanced at his face to check his reaction, which was... Complete and utter shock. I could see him blushing, so I decided to make things ten times worse for him by pointing it out. “Your face is so red, it’s so cute.”

For a second, I thought I may have taken it too far. What was I thinking, acting like this towards him? He was tired, he didn’t mean it, he doesn’t actually care.. I’ve only just met him, for god’s sake, how could he care about me at all? I could feel him staring at me, and I did not have the courage to face him. “... This is nice.. Your hands are very soft, w-we should do this more often.”

He... liked this? He liked doing something so uncomfortably intimate as this? No, he can’t, he’s probably just saying it to pity me... We finally got to the gate, which distracted me from my thoughts. I put the shovel and the gloves back in their place. “Aesop.. You know you can take off your mask around me if you want to, right? You don’t have to, it’s just a suggestion...”

The idea of ever removing my mask around someone else was.. strange, and it frightened me. I had been wearing it in front of other people for as long as I could remember, and I wasn’t about to stop now. I mean, I had taken it off at the party, but this was different. I loved him, but I didn’t know whether I could trust him enough to take it off right now. “... I would prefer to keep it on.”

We kept walking, as we headed to the small staff car park behind the funeral home. It amazed me that Andrew was able to walk here every day; if I tried to, I know I would end up collapsing halfway there. All the time, I kept holding his hand. I don’t know why I did, but he didn’t complain, so I assumed it was fine. I looked through my pockets, grabbing my car key and unlocking it. I swiftly opened the door for Andrew, smiling. He got into the car, and I closed the door for him, getting in on the driver’s side. (Obviously, I wasn’t even sure if Andrew knew how to drive.) I pulled out my phone, opening up Google Maps. “So. Where do you live?”

He suddenly snatched my phone from me, completely silent, and typed in the address for me. He seemed.. Nervous, almost? He did mention his family being rich, so I brushed it off, and assumed he was just embarrassed because he lived in the richer part of town. He passed the phone back to me, and I looked through the directions, quickly memorising them. Good memory was one of the good things about me- it made me better at my work, and much more efficient. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The drive was not as short as I expected it to be. I followed the directions exactly, but as I drove, I realised that either I was incredibly lost, or Andrew’s family was extremely rich. Andrew himself was mostly silent, and after a while he fell asleep. I realised that may be a problem, but I didn’t mind. Occasionally, Google Maps would read off a quick little instruction, which I of course followed. After about 20 minutes of driving down endless roads, I wondered just how far this actually was away from where Andrew lived. His legs must get painfully tired after walking and digging graves constantly. Thank the lord that my shift starts later in the morning rather than earlier, otherwise I would be painfully late. 

Google Maps read off a quick “Turn right”, which I did, and decided to look up ahead, to see if there was any possibility we were almost there yet. At the very end of the road, I noticed there was only one home on this street. When I say home, I mean mansion. Was Andrew’s family really this rich, or was I following the directions wrong? Still, I drove down the road, until I reached the gates. I felt intimidated by the whole place’s size. I opened up my phone, double-checking the address. It was correct, somehow. Wait a second, Desaulnier Mansion? Andrew was a Desaulnier? Andrew was Victor’s _brother,_ most likely? Oh, god...

The Desaulniers were known for being strange, and being some of the richest people around. Nobody heard from them much, as they had a rather limited social circle, and to be quite frank, people were a little afraid of them. People saw them around occasionally, but their presence was rare. Not too much was known about them, other than that they were incredibly rich, and that one of them was a talented violinist. Victor was one of them, yes, but he never talked about his family too often. And now, I had one of their children asleep in my car.

I noticed a small “please ring bell for assistance” sign, with what appeared to be a normal doorbell attached to the wall underneath the sign. I recognised the house in the distance, but not this gate. I assumed that last time, we had gone through another entrance. I hesitantly got out of the car, and rang the bell, waiting for something to happen. It took a couple of seconds for the gates to slowly open, and I got back in my car, and began to drive towards the house. As I drove towards it, I tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever was about to happen. The Desaulniers were strange, everyone knew that, but nobody knew truly how strange. Once I got within vicinity of the house, I stopped my car again, and gently nudged Andrew with my elbow, trying to wake him up. Complete silence. I nudged him again, desperate for him to just wake up. Somehow, he still stayed asleep. “Andrew? Hello? Come on, wake up, damn it...” At this point, he seemed more like the corpses I spend my days embalming than a real living person. I tried not to think about that, and instead roughly shook Andrew. He made a small noise, but other than that, he was completely asleep. I came to the realisation that I was going to have to carry Andrew into the house.

I got out of the car, and opened the other car door, awkwardly trying to pick up Andrew. He was rather light, and quite short, but he was so deeply asleep it was like I was trying to carry a dead body. Still, I managed to, and closed the car door with difficulty. I didn't feel the need to lock it; the Desaulniers were rich enough (their wealth was disgusting, to be honest), it wasn't like I was going to get robbed or anything. I carried Andrew towards the house, and the reality of my situation began to set in. I was carrying a rather wealthy gravedigger to his mansion full of the absolute madmen he called “family”. I swallowed nervously, and stood in front of the door, trying to figure out how in god's name I was going to ring the doorbell whilst also holding Andrew. After a while of trying to press it, I finally managed to, and I waited. The wait seemed almost endless, and in that time, I made a mental bet on who would open the door; probably either Victor or the violinist, since both of them seemed like the kind of people to sleep and wake up at strange times. 

After a while, someone finally answered the door. As I predicted, it was none other than the violinist. He had a rather... Interesting appearance. His black hair was quite long, and seemed to almost float. It partially obscured his eyes, and I felt rather uneasy when looking at him. He stared at me for a few seconds, processing the current situation. All of a sudden, he seemed on edge, looking directly at Andrew."... I-ls he alright, or is he just asleep?" 

Of course. He was a parent, so it was obviously his first concern. "He's fine. He got quite tired, so I drove him home. My name is Aesop Carl, by the way-" 

He seemed to recognise my name, and cut me off, smiling. "Ah, Aesop! My son has spoken quite highly of you. My name is Antonio. Antonio Desaulnier, that is. It's a pleasure to meet you, Aesop. Erm.. If it isn't too much to ask, could you bring Andrew to his room? I would do it myself, but I'm not strong enough to carry him. His room is upstairs, on the left." 

Andrew.. spoke _highly_ of me? Even after what happened at the party? It was... Rather surprising to learn that. People usually do not care about me much, nevermind talk about me to other people in a positive manner. I nodded slightly, and smiled underneath my mask. I knew he could not see it, but it still felt like I had to. "Of course, Mr Antonio. It's a pleasure to meet you too." 

He stepped aside, allowing me to enter the house. I entered, feeling slightly embarrassed. I had been embalming all day, and staying in the graveyard with Andrew all night, so I felt messy and tired. I felt afraid of being judged by the ridiculously wealthy people here. Antonio closed the door behind me, and as soon as I turned my back, he seemed to disappear to somewhere else. I looked around the house, filled with awe. I didn’t focus much on the house itself when I was at the party, so now I could finally observe it. 

Andrew got to live here? I shook my head, and hurried up the stairs, trying not to drop Andrew whilst I did. I am not going to get distracted by my love’s living conditions, no matter how amazing they may be. He was still peacefully asleep, breathing softly. Every now and again, he would mumble something incoherent in his sleep, and go back to complete silence. It was cute, and it made me wish I could stay here with him. I wanted nothing more than to be able to cuddle him... I dismissed those thoughts, and turned left, like Antonio instructed me to. Each room was labelled, and I walked down the hallway, searching for Andrew's room. 

Once I found it, I gently pushed the door open with my foot, and looked around. His room was large, the walls painted a dark shade of grey. In fact, it seemed most things in his room were dark grey, from the bedsheets to the soft carpet. I pushed the various blankets on his bed aside, and placed him down. He seemed so peaceful whilst he was asleep, and this gave me an idea. He slept deeply, so I was sure he would not be disturbed... 

Hesitantly, I pulled down my mask, exposing the rest of my face, and gently kissed his forehead. I immediately pulled away, pulling my mask over my face once more. How could I do that? If it woke him up, he would probably kill me for doing that... He shifted a little in his sleep, and I thought he was going to wake up, but he simply rolled over onto his side. Thank the lord for that. I smiled down at him, watching him sleep for a few seconds, before heading towards the bedroom door and leaving his room.

Sweet dreams, Andrew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK LET US KNOW LET US KNOW LET US KNOW


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